The Only One Left
by DoodlingBug
Summary: This is sorta a mix of Kate/Hugh and Wally/Chris, just something I wanted to write. I have ideas for the rest of it but wanted to see how people reviewed first :  T for one little instance of language


Chris jumped as the front door slammed closed. Sighing as she looked down at what had been a dish of perfectly formed wontons before her palm had destroyed them, she called, "Wally?"

"It's me, Mom," Hugh called back.

Chris smiled to herself, and walked towards the front door. She had had the day off from work, and had spent the past couple of hours preparing an elaborate meal for her family. She had also baked a plate of Hugh's favorite cookies, complete with the protein powder he seemed to consume in bulk, and was excited to show them off.

When she reached her son however, his normally cheerful face was devoid of emotion, and he only nodded at her before heading up the stairs.

"Hugh?" she called after him, but received no response. She hurried back to her little kitchen and placed the maimed wontons in the fridge to deal with later, and hung her apron on a hook beside their china shelf.

Upstairs, Hugh was lying on his bed, throwing a basketball towards the ceiling and catching it, again and again. He made no indication that he had noticed her coming in, so she sat down on an exercise bike and considered how to start their conversation.

"Mom," Hugh said, with a tinge of irritation in his voice, "Can I just be alone for now? I don't need you to fix all of my problems for me."

Taken aback, Chris opened her mouth to respond, but didn't entirely know what to say.

"Honey, I'm not…. I just, I mean, are you okay?"

Hugh snorted, a short, cynical laugh, and said, "Of course you have no idea. I mean, for all you know I could be off dealing drugs while you're at work, and you wouldn't know anything about it."

"Hugh, you know that's not fair," Chris murmured helplessly. Because no matter how much she denied it, it was the truth. She needed to work six days a week to support her family, since Wally was always training for his "perfect race" that never seemed to happen.

"Whatever, Mom," Hugh muttered, grabbing a sports magazine and rolling over, a clear dismissal.

Feeling rather dazed, Chris wandered downstairs, and realized she was furious. Not with Hugh, as he truly had every right to be angry, and not with herself; she was simply doing what she had to. No, Wally was the one she was furious with. Wally, who jogged through the valley and surrounding mountains, always talking about what a great athlete he was, and all the races he was going to win, without any responsibilities in the real world. Wally, who had every opportunity to talk to Hugh about what was going on in his life, but never did. He barely talked about anything but his own narcissistic glory, and likely never found time in his terribly busy schedule to ask Hugh how _he_ was feeling.

Clenching her jaw, Chris pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and went to finish dinner. She ignored the voice in her head asking why she was using her precious free time to cook a meal for a man who would likely only see it as his due, and then expect one every night. She grudgingly stirred a sauce, and simmered peppers to serve on the side. She also took the wonton plate out of the fridge, and painstakingly reshaped each little package until it formed a perfect little teardrop of shrimp and veggies. Just as she was finishing setting the table, Wally burst in the door, stinking of sweat and dirt, as always.

He nodded and smiled at Chris, wiping his hand across his brow as he did so.

"Hey honey, I'm gonna run up and clean off. What's for dinner?" he asked between heavy breaths.

Chris sucked in a small breath and curtly responded, "Wontons with curry sauce, sautéed peppers, fried rice, and choco-protein cookies for dessert."

She hadn't made a meal like this for months, as she usually only had time to heat up a freezer meal for the family, but Wally was already jogging up the stairs, and called down, "Sure baby. Make sure you give me enough, I need to increase my protein intake."

Barely able to restrain herself from throwing the dish of cookies after him, Chris forced herself to sit down at the table. She poured herself a glass of cheap wine, and practiced taking deep breaths as she waited for Wally and Hugh to come downstairs.

Wally bounded down first, now in a different iteration of his usual uniform of running shorts and a loose jersey, with Hugh trailing morosely behind him. Wally sat down and began eating without ceremony, making no comment on the food or arrangement. Hugh sat down next to his mother, and picked at his fried rice. Finding herself rubbing her temples more and more over the course of the meal, Chris found she didn't have much of an appetite. Wally was piling a third helping of rice on his plate when he noticed that Hugh had barely touched his food.

"Hugh, what's with the manorexia there? You've gotta clean off that plate if you wanna grow up to be strong like your old man!" he ordered, before turning back to his own mountain of food,

"Yeah," said Hugh quietly, and forced himself to eat a wonton.

Chris watched this exchange, and quietly said, "Hugh, you can clear your plate and go upstairs now. I would like to talk to your father alone."

Hugh looked at her, seeming vaguely curious, but shrugged and did as he was told. Wally didn't even look up from his plate until Chris yanked it out from under his fork.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed.

Wally looked at her bewilderedly, and said, "Hon, I know you wanna talk about things, but can I have my plate back? I really need to carbo-load for my run tomorrow."

Chris glared at him, and used the back of her hand to flick his plate off the table, smashing it and sending its contents flying all over the carpet.

He looked at her as if she was a badly behaved yet lovable puppy, and said, "Pumpkin, can we just talk about it? I'm gonna run and get another plate, you start telling me about your problem though."

Chris stood up and threw her wine glass at him as he walked towards the china cabinet.

"It's not 'my' problem, it's our son! I think that makes it OUR fucking problem, don't you?" she screamed, stopping him in his tracks.

His face was the same one he used when he forgot about her birthday, or their anniversary, and his voice was soothing when he said, "Okay, honey, what's the problem with Hugh?"

Seething, Chris balled her small hands into fists, and said, "Well, you tell me. I actually have to work to maintain your lifestyle, so I never get to see my son. When he comes home looking like he saw someone die, I have no clue what would be wrong. You, on the other hand, can talk to him all day, every day, so I'm sure you know exactly what's wrong and have a complete analysis of this problem that you plan on sharing with me now."

Wally approached her with his hands out, palms facing her.

"Christina, I'm sure Hugh is fine. He's a teenager, and teenagers have problems. _I_ never needed _my_ parents to help me deal with my problems, and I'm sure Hugh doesn't either. Now, can I please go get another plate of rice.?"

"Oh, well, if the wondrous Wally didn't need his parents, we should just eliminate the institution all together! I don't need to personally solve his every problem, but I would like to know what caused his sudden personality change," she said, and promptly got out of her chair, and went upstairs.

"Hey, sweetheart, aren't you going to clean up this mess you made?" he called after her. She ignored him and went straight to her bed, falling into it with a big sigh.

After a few moments, a tentative whisper of "Mom?" came from the direction of Hugh's bed.

"Hi Hugh," she responded tiredly. She took off her glasses and carefully folded them up, then tucked them into a little drawer below the bed.

"Can I come talk to you?" he asked, turning around to face her. She smiled wearily, and waved him over. Scooting so that she was no longer sprawled across the bed, she made room for Hugh to come sit on the edge. He came and lay down on his stomach, taking up Wally's half of the bed.

"So, you know it's not like Dad's fault or anything right? Like I don't want you guys all fighting about something stupid like this," he said, glancing over at her. Chris sighed, and leaned back into her thin pillow.

"I know. It's just that your dad and I need to talk about a couple things, and he's apparently not up for listening," she responded miserably. She knew that Hugh was clearly old enough to understand, but she couldn't bring herself to talk about it anymore, so she changed the subject.

"Anyway, what was wrong today? I know it's none of my business, but if you wanted to share it with me, I could try and help," she coaxed.

Hugh laughed a little, and said, "I suppose you're supposed to talk to your mom about 'girl trouble,' right?"

Slightly surprised, she rolled over to face him and said, "This is about Kate?"

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered, not entirely invested in the line of conversation. Hugh and Kate had been playmates since they were little, as they were the only kids their age in the valley. However, their personalities had become increasingly incompatible as they had gotten older.

"Well…" she trailed off, waiting for him to continue.

"Well nothing. She was just being difficult today, and sometimes… I don't know, she's just hard to deal with," he said with a resigned sigh.

Chris licked her lip, mentally preparing some motherly advice about women, but Hugh shook his head at her.

"Don't worry about it, Mom. I can deal with it, it just pisses me off," he said. Though Hugh was old enough to hang out with some of the men in the valley, like Rock and Marlin, the age gap was just a bit too wide, and most of them were already thinking about marriage and futures.

Suddenly struck with a thought, Chris looked over at him and asked, "So is Kate your girlfriend now?"

Hugh gave her an odd look, and said, "Yeah, I suppose. She's my girlfriend, my best friend, my worst friend… My only friend. She's the only option, so yeah, I guess you could say she's my girlfriend."

"Well, there's Lumina…" she suggested, saddened by the bitterness in his voice.

He made some semblance of a shrug and, speaking into the pillow, said, "Nah, she's with Rock, or whatever. Kate's my lot. We'll grow up, get married, have kids, the whole thing. Just how it is. I'm gonna go to bed, I'll see you in the morning."

He stood up and walked over to his own bed, flicking off the light dangling over it. Chris sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, thinking about what he had said. As much as she wanted to tell him that he could do whatever he wanted, that he wasn't destined to marry Kate and live unhappily ever after, she couldn't do it. It had been the same for her; Wally had been _the_ option when she was a teenager. Everyone had been paired up since they were toddlers, and when she had moved to the valley at eleven, Wally was the one who chose her. Even if he hadn't, there weren't many other options. Griffin perhaps, but Grant and Samantha were already set to be together. Tim and Ruby were also set to walk down the aisle in ten years time, so it was only logical that she had been stuck with Wally. She hadn't minded him, and had just done what was expected of her. She was beginning to wish she'd had the foresight to say no.

"Chris?" Wally asked uncertainly as he walked towards the bed. He was sweaty again from his evening exercises, and beads of it were dripping off his face and onto the comforter cover.

She looked at him, eyes steely, and said, "You can sleep downstairs tonight. I'm sure there's a futon under the stairs. Surprisingly, Wally nodded and headed back towards the stairs, making no comment about needing to support his back before training the next day.


End file.
